


This is How You Find the Way

by dedougal



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Multi, Pack Bonding, Pack Feels, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-06
Updated: 2013-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 13:59:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek wouldn't have believed he could end up here, with them all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is How You Find the Way

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Round 3 of Stop Drop Howl. I'm also claiming it for my bingo prompt of "morning" because the prompt from poor_choices was "Lazy Sunday morning". Title from Thea Gilmore.

He wakes up slow. It’s the best kind of waking. Nowhere to be, nothing to do. His body aches in the way that means he had a really good run or really good sex followed by deep, dreamless rest. He’s warm too and everything smells like pack.

Pack and coffee.

He opens his eyes when Stiles crawls back under the sheets, mug and laptop balanced precariously. It takes him a few tries to unpeel his eyelashes from his cheeks because, and he cannot underline this enough, he is still mostly asleep. Doesn’t matter. Because Stiles isn’t getting out of bed. He’s getting back in.

“Hey.” Stiles’s voice is so soft and pitched so low that it’s almost quieter than a whisper, almost sub-vocal. “Go back to sleep.”

Derek closes his eyes again but he knows it’s futile. He’s awake, he’s not getting back to sleep any time soon, but he gets to just lie here and bask like a giant cat and no one can say anything because it’s Sunday morning and no one needs to be anywhere.

A hand starts to work its way through his hair, petting and stroking and twisting the rough spikes around fingers that are too small to be Stiles’s. And he can hear Stiles tapping away on his laptop anyway. Another hand starts working its way over Derek’s sole, thumb digging into the knots and whorls in the ball of his foot. It’s nice. Derek’s stretches his hand out and he ends up playing with what must be Erica’s hair. He should open his eyes but it’s nice how they all blend together like this.

There’s a cough covering a laugh from the doorway and Derek finally drags his eyes open to see Boyd leaning against the doorway, one side of his mouth lifting in an amused leer. “I leave for the bathroom and you get started without me.” His tone is dry but he’s not irritated. He’s putting any annoyance on just to get a reaction.

“Wasn’t starting nothing,” Erica says just as Stiles lifts his mug and points at it. Boyd comes back to join them on the enormous bed. Derek would have been happy with a nest of blankets on the floor of his apartment, maybe a mattress, but Stiles had insisted. Or, more to the point, Stiles had threatened to cut him off if he didn’t buy a proper bed. 

He’s letting his eyes close again as Isaac’s hand (must be Isaac. There’s no other options) starts to travel up his leg, fingers rubbing the hair on his leg the wrong way, heel of his hand digging into the muscle. It feels good. Boyd is kissing Erica, soft, purposeful kisses and Stiles sighs and slides the laptop under the bed as Isaac’s hand finally reaches its destination and cups Derek’s dick. He hadn’t been aware until then that he was half hard, ignorable morning wood. It’s not urgent, it’s not like he has to get off right now. In fact, he’s almost more interested in the lazy kiss that Stiles and Boyd are sharing over his chest right now.

Isaac shifts at the bottom of the bed and the sheets slide down and reveal his sleepy eyes. He kneels up and nudges at Stiles until Stiles turns to kiss him too. Erica lays her head on Derek’s shoulder and watches with him.

“I guess we’re doing this,” she mutters, sounding a little bit smug, before Boyd kisses her again. Derek looks at his pack and breathes them all in. 

They’re missing a few members. That seems the way of it unless there’s a major holiday, Christmas, Thanksgiving, Spring break, or some weird co-incidental weekend when they all manage to get back to Beacon Hills. Sure, they chat. Skype, for all Derek still hates technology with a passion and would rather put his hand through the screen than wait for it to stop glitching. Lydia and Allison are the furthest away right now, on a whole other continent, sending postcards from Paris and weird emails from booths inside museums in Amsterdam. Scott had duties at the clinic this morning and Jackson a paper due. Derek feels their absence like a missing room. His house doesn’t feel built, whole without them all. It reminds him, perhaps, of the time Erica was gone. Stiles tells him, when he explains in halting words, more missing than spoken aloud, silences needing interpretation, that Derek still misses his family. He can’t really argue with that.

But, here, now, he’s got to be grateful for what he’s got. 

Stiles kisses him then, drawing him further into the weird pack bonding thing that runs alongside movie nights and sleeping in one big pile. And fighting together, having each other's backs in ways that run deeper than family and sex and everything else. They would quite literally die for each other. And Derek would die for each and every one of them too.

“C’mon, Derek. Kiss me back.” Stiles sounds like he’s about ten seconds away from tickling Derek into a better mood. Which kinda pisses Derek off. Stiles would probably appreciate that he was thinking about what they meant to him, for ‘feeling feelings’ as he’d put it one time. But that’s too much of an effort. Derek cups his cheek and kisses him, sour morning breath barely covered by the coffee taste. It doesn’t matter. Nothing really matters than the soft press of Stiles’s lips, the way he stifles a yawn and has sleep crusted at the corner of his eye.

The rest of them all demand kissing and it’s good. It’s lazy, languid, relaxed. With each brush of a mouth, flick of a tongue, Derek feels like he’s being stretched thinner and thinner until all he’ll be is a responsive ball of light and everyone will be able to read his heart through his paperthin skin. It’ll have all their names etched on it, for sure. His dick is all the way hard, as is Boyd’s and Isaac’s and Stiles’s and Erica smells sweet and wet and ready too.

In the end, it’s Isaac who snaps first. “Okay, so I need to get off soon.” He’s got one hand around Stiles’s ass and the other stroking Erica’s breast, rolling her nipple. Erica is mouthing at Boyd’s balls, nosing at his cock. It’s all very unselfconscious and natural and wholly intimate.

“Yeah,” Stiles draws out. “You should have Derek fuck you. Ride him.” Derek is kinda up for that. He’d like to come and it would mean he doesn’t have to put much effort into it. He’d feel bad except for the way Isaac lights up at the idea and it makes him draw Isaac in to a kiss that’s a little less lazy than before. Isaac tastes a little of Stiles and a bit of Erica and of Boyd and Derek feels like he’s kissing all of them at once.

He knows exactly when Stiles starts to work Isaac open because Isaac’s mouth falls away from his and he has to rest his forehead on Derek’s shoulder. It just leaves his neck open for Derek to kiss down, suck a mark that lingers for a little longer than the marks anyone else leaves. Isaac whines softly, getting exactly what he wants as Stiles fingers him. Derek knows just how good Stiles’s fingers feel after all.

Boyd kisses Isaac again, murmuring something so softly that even Derek can’t pick it up. He’s distracted by the feel of Erica’s hand on his cock, slicking him up. Derek feels like his heart is going to pound right out of his chest then. It only intensifies when Isaac eases down, slowly, starts to ride him with tiny swirls of his hips. He’s so tall, stretched above Derek, confident where before he was broken. Boyd kisses him again, disrupting the languorous rhythm for a moment. Isaac is burning hot and so fucking tight and perfect around him. Erica’s got Stiles to screw her now, although they seem to be having a nonsensical conversation about superheroes while they fuck. Derek doesn’t care, especially when Boyd kneels up beside his head and his cock is just there, just out of reach. Derek draws him in, just like he’d pulled Isaac into a kiss earlier. He’s concentrating so much on taking as much of Boyd as he can manage with his head at this angle that he misses Isaac getting closer and closer until the spatter of come on his belly, the gentle pants Isaac lets out, clue him in.

Isaac flops down on the bottom of the bed, looking smugly worn out. His eyes roam over Derek, Boyd and the pair of geeks, hunger only mostly sated. Derek’s finding his whole need to come becoming a little more urgent himself now, and he starts to stroke himself, fucking up into his fist, still swallowing around Boyd. Stiles suggests something to Erica and she giggles. It takes a moment for the words to work their way past the fuzz starting to build in Derek’s head. He can feel his eyes trying to close again for all that he wants to keep them open, keep watching them all.

“Doesn’t Derek look pretty covered in come?” Stiles had said. 

Erica pushed him off a moment later. “You know what would be cool?” Since Stiles looks like he’s a moment away from busting his nuts, he nods frantically, making Derek snort around Boyd’s cock. “We should all come on Derek.”

Erica uses her unnatural strength to flip him aside and then she’s straddling Derek and tugging his hand out of the way. It’s sometimes hard to deny Erica anything – she’s confident in all kinds of ways now – and Derek lets her slide down on his cock. Stiles actually pouts before Derek gets his hand around Stiles’s cock and starts to stroke. None of them are far away from coming now, the scent, the sound of their heartbeats almost a presence in the room.

Derek concentrates hard on not coming as Erica moves her hips harder and faster. Isaac comes to kneel behind her, one hand back on her breast, the other between her legs. Derek feels her come, grinding down, and he lets go too. It’s only when he stops pulsing into her that he realizes he let Boyd slip from his mouth, tightened his hand too much on Stiles’s cock. Erica doesn’t move, for all that she must be sensitive. Instead she hauls Isaac into another kiss, open mouthed and filthy, which is all Derek sees before he turns his head to suck hard on the head of Boyd’s cock. It swells, hardens more, and Boyd lets out a soft whuff before he comes. He pulls out, spilling on Derek’s cheek, his chin, his neck. Then Stiles – the only one without super werewolf powers, which amuses Derek for a moment – decides he’s fed up being the only one left out and places his hand on top of Derek’s, forcing him to move faster. Stiles aims at his chest when he comes, but most of it spills over their combined hands.

Derek is filthy in all the best ways as they collapse around him, slowly bringing their heartbeats back to normal. Stiles plays with the come Isaac left on his belly, rubbing it into his skin as Erica and Isaac trade lazy kisses. Boyd closes his eyes. There’s an odd energy running through Derek now, as if he wants to get up and make them all waffles and bacon and then run to the lake and back. The lake sounds good as do the waffles, to be honest. His belly rumbles under Stiles’s hand.

“Hungry?” Stiles grin tilts towards filthy and he’s making his eyebrows do something crazy, dancing about, even when Derek lifts his hand to flick the sleep from the corner of his eye. It catches on his cheek and Derek has to brush it away a few times. Stiles lets him.

“I could eat,” Boyd says, eyes still closed. Isaac lifts a hand in agreement.

Derek just looks down at himself. He’s sticky and sweat slicked and covered in come. That weird energy pulses under his skin again. He’ll get breakfast and he’ll have a long shower and then they’ll make Stiles pull up some stupid movie on his laptop and collapse into bed again, into the ruin they've made of the sheets. They’ve nowhere to be and nothing to do and the rest of the day seems endless.


End file.
